I'm sure this has been posted here before, but I was reading it and just thought I'd post it hear again 
How Could You?
By Jim Willis, 2001
When I was a puppy, I intertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and murderd pillows, I became you best freind. When I was "bad", you'd shake a finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I beleived life could not be more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, ice cream (only I got the cones because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun, waiting for you to come home for the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you paitently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disapointments, never chided you about bad desicions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitment. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried I might hurt them and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or in a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisnor of love. As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on the nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, together we listened for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you'd produce a photo of me from your wallet and start telling them stories about me. These past few years, you've just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being your dogs to "just a dog", and you resented every expedenture on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving into an apartment that doesn't allow pets. You've made a right desicion for your "family", but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride untill we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, fear, and hopelessness. You filled out the paper work and said, "I know you'll find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers". You had to pry your sons hand from my collar as he screamed, "No Daddy! Don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship, loyalty, about love and responsiblity, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You have a deadline to meet, and now I have one,too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me a good home. They shook their heads and said, "How could you?" They are as attentive to us at the shelter as their busy scheduals allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appitite days ago.
At first, when anyone past my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you, that you had changed your mind -- or that this was all a bad dream....or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the froliking for attention puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me that day, and I padded along beside her into a seperate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on a table, gently rubbing my ears, telling me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation for what was to come, but there was also a sence of relief. The prisnor of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden with which she bears lays heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I new your every mood. She gentley placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I layed down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmurd, "How could you?"
Prehaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained that it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored, abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her by a thump of my tail, that my "how could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
-- that says it all.......
How Could You?
By Jim Willis, 2001
When I was a puppy, I intertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child and despite a number of chewed shoes and murderd pillows, I became you best freind. When I was "bad", you'd shake a finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I beleived life could not be more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, ice cream (only I got the cones because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun, waiting for you to come home for the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you paitently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disapointments, never chided you about bad desicions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitment. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried I might hurt them and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or in a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisnor of love. As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on the nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, together we listened for the sound of your car in the driveway.
There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you'd produce a photo of me from your wallet and start telling them stories about me. These past few years, you've just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being your dogs to "just a dog", and you resented every expedenture on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving into an apartment that doesn't allow pets. You've made a right desicion for your "family", but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride untill we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, fear, and hopelessness. You filled out the paper work and said, "I know you'll find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers". You had to pry your sons hand from my collar as he screamed, "No Daddy! Don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship, loyalty, about love and responsiblity, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You have a deadline to meet, and now I have one,too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me a good home. They shook their heads and said, "How could you?" They are as attentive to us at the shelter as their busy scheduals allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appitite days ago.
At first, when anyone past my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you, that you had changed your mind -- or that this was all a bad dream....or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the froliking for attention puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me that day, and I padded along beside her into a seperate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on a table, gently rubbing my ears, telling me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation for what was to come, but there was also a sence of relief. The prisnor of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden with which she bears lays heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I new your every mood. She gentley placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I layed down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmurd, "How could you?"
Prehaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me and hurriedly explained that it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored, abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her by a thump of my tail, that my "how could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever.
May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
-- that says it all....... 
